The Game - Flashback Memories

[Intro: Raekwon, (Game)] Yo Game what up, (Yo Chef what it is) Ain't nothing my nigga, tryna get paid in full man (You know I'm definitely down for that) So you reppin' Black Wall Street right (Black Wall Street general, five star soldier and all that) No question I'm reppin' Vatican, we gone do this big nigga style Let's take em there for real, let's go [Verse 1: Raekwon] Before flusty days living in Killa Hills I was young'd out with rusty waves Cut'n hair chill'n, going down town blaze'n Lay'n up in Albee Square, when I bought my first fronts there Everybody young as fuck, in the pizza shop, What up Brooklyn niggas rap with a cuffle Call the highlights the gangsta dialect Before I let any nigga take mine I'm die'n, Moet What's the jump off, the new shit Then he said hold up a sec Get this crack money, niggas except Wick checks, food stamps and amps Blue Wallabee's, aviaries on in the back on the ramp You know we pop off for hours, cowards beware Word to Mother, you gone respect my power Respect the dollar, no quizzy, get busy It was like adolescents at war, we clapped them thizzies On the duece suited Voltron, the ratchet heavy In the crib coolin' blunted, watchin' Tom & Jerry Bagin' up, laughin', blingin', rhymin' and singin' When it come to getting currency, call me a swinger We rock Maybach's, Benz's is little Icicles on, cover the ground with a massive dribble Call us ballers, brawlers, them whores want all us Suede down, coolin', playin' spades with quarters And then left it for the rap game All my niggas grab champagne Bust of them seals it's mad flames, ya'll lames Stay in your lane, we movin' like big money Bet a nigga die for them chains You know the slang baby, watch me lay her Half goon, half mayor, the other half call me a hater But later, I'mma polly for Rae-ah, and a hundred wolves Pull next time, respect the playa, what [Hook: Raekwon x2] Flashbacks, memories, two shots of Hennessy Street life etiquette, real niggas blend with me Talking bout ten a key, Baltimore, Tennessee I ain't got to tell you, how long I been a G [Verse 2: Game] I'm sick and that drop Aston is the medicine Ridin' with the Moon in the rear view, it's only evident I'm fly as the wings on a seven forty-seven jet Game code his rhymes, ain't even been recorded yet On the fence where my Father used to sport a Vet And my Uncle Red ran the rock like door set Rewind time ten years before I had the Lex Mail man scared to drop the bills on my door step Little nigga street dreamin' bout a fast car My Father had dope tracks like his arm was Nascar In eighty-seven, shit I was maybe seven Watch my big brother throwin' ten, come back with eleven Only knew what it was cause I overheard My Pops on the phone talking bout selling all my birds I cried the next eight years over them pigeons To only find out not one was missing, word [Hook] [Outro: Raekwon] Yeah, that's how we do what we do, knahmsayin? For real, the only thing we do baby Is fold dough, you heard And read the DuPont all day nigga And get the stove clean you heard This is real offical shit man, word up man Our cherry is different from all these Phony ass, carrot cake ass niggas Fake ice philanthropist, you know what the fuck I mean nigga Ha ha, it's real niggas right here boy Word up, go buy the babies them big bangin' Am & Barshon necklaces, nothing but Louis luggage nigga Y'knahmsayin, catch me in the South of France nigga Clean as a fuck, that's how it go Yeah, this is powerful shit baby, word up Black Wall Street, Vatican, BT man, what up baby